Sweet Tooth
by Cartridge
Summary: After meeting on Halloween, Stiles and Derek are changed. Derek begins obsessing over a kid in a red sweatshirt while trying to stay on the good side of some new group of Hunters. Stiles begins to learn more about the darker side of Beacon Hills, and his family. The two lives intertwine as they both look for something more. Sterek, don't like don't read. AU inside. IN PROGRESS.
1. Chapter One

**Title : **Sweet Tooth

**Rating : **M

**Disclaimer : **I do not own anything related to Teen Wolf nor will I make any money off of this story.

Okay so I'm not really sure _where _this idea came from, but I have a feeling I'm going to have fun with it. Dunno how many chapters, sorry, but I doubt it will be longer than 15?

Anyway to describe the AU a bit more, Scott never became a werewolf, they never met Derek Hale, they never went out to find Laura's body, etc. Basically this would take place before the series began, back in their Sophomore year when they were sixteen. Well not Derek but yeah anyway. There will be a little more supernatural type stuff in this than there already is in the TV show, which probably doesn't make _any_ sense right now, but it will later on uvu

Thanks, enjoy ~

* * *

**One **

"Hey, so, you still have that huge crush on Lydia or whatever, right?"

Stiles looked up from his locker to where Scott was standing, grinning from ear to ear. Stiles couldn't help but blush a little, scowling.

"Dude you know I do."

"Awesome. Well, I got an official invite to her Halloween party tonight, and you my friend are coming with me."

Blinking a little, Stiles frowned, glancing back into the almost overpouring content of his cluttered locker. Grabbing one last text book, slipping it into his backpack, then slamming the metal door closed, Stiles finally looked back at Scott.

"I dunno."

"What do you mean, you dunno?" Scott looked completely stupified, as if Stiles had just said he didn't want to be friends with Scott anymore. "This is a once in a life time opportunity! Do you not realize that? Ever since I befriended Allison, who's like best friends with Lydia, I've been able to go to all these parties. And you've always come with me. But now, you _don't know_?"

Stiles shrugged a little.

"Stiles you do realize what Halloween parties means. Girls. In tights. And leotards. Wearing animal ears and tails. How the Hell could you not want to go?" Scott winked, grinning again. "I hear Lydia's going as a Cheetah tonight. Meow."

At that, Stiles had to smile a little. He really did want to see Lydia dressed like that... but assuming Scott and Allison stayed friends, Stiles would have another opportunity.

"Look, I promised my dad I'd help him out tonight. Giving out candy and stuff, ya know?"

"Stiles. Passing out candy with your _dad _or watching Lydia slink around half naked. It's not a hard choice."

"You didn't hear the speech he gave. Used the classic lines, like 'I never get to see you anymore' and 'I don't even know what my own son is like' and 'You haven't handed out candy with me in years'. I couldn't say no. And I can't bail out." Stiles winced, really regretting ever promising his dad he'd pass out candy with him. Not that it was related to his dad, just that Scott had a really good point.

Scott shook his head, pursing his lips slightly. "Whatever dude. Miss out all ya want. But when you hear about how awesome the exclusive Lydia Martin party was, and you get sad cause you missed out, you can't complain to me."

With that, Scott walked away, meeting up with Allison down the hall at her locker. Stiles watched them talk for a little before leaving the school together. With an agitated sigh, Stiles punched his locker door.

"Oh, _crap_!" Stiles muttered, shaking his hand, biting his bottom lip to keep from crying out again at the pain blossoming in his hands.

...

Stiles licked his lips, staring into the massive bowl of candy resting in his lap. He glanced around his porch nervously, then snaked a finger in to grab a peanut butter cup.

"Stiles!"

Head snapping up, hand frozen mid air above the bowl, Stiles saw his dad round the corner of the hedges and march up the front steps, snatching the bowl from Stiles's lap. Stiles scowled, sighed and looking away.

"I told you, that candy isn't for you, it's for the trick or treaters."

"Well I should be allowed to have some candy, it isn't _my _fault I'm too old to go out tonight," Stiles mumbled, saying the 'too old' part in a sarcastic higher-pitched voice, as if mimicking his father's words.

Mr. Stilinski rolled his eyes, raising an eyebrow. "You said yourself you were too old. And to remind you, you agreed immediately to hand out candy with me this year."

Stiles turned his head to watch his dad as the other sat down on the top stair of the porch, the bowl safely tucked away to his left, and _away _from Stiles.

The sky had begun to darken, and the first swarm of kids had started to approach. Dressed in the normal costumes – vampires, werewolves, princesses, etc. - kids began lining up and down the street. Stiles alternated with his dad for handing out candy. Occasionally he popped a piece of his chocolate in his mouth, and though he knew he would always get caught, he didn't stop because he always found a way to hand out more candy.

By the time it was pitch black outside, the air as cold as it would be – needless to say it wasn't too cold, Stiles had only needed his signature red sweatshirt – they ran out of the first round of candy.

Grabbing the bowl before his dad could object, Stiles ran inside, placing it on the counter and grabbing two bags of assorted candy from the pile they had on the counter. Dumping the contents in the bowl, Stiles grabbed the rim, ready to head back outside when he heard a noise from the back.

Blinking slowly, Stiles settled the bowl down back on the counter, opening the back door with a gentle _click_!

Stepping on the poorch, he felt the winds bite at his neck. Ducking his chin into the warm cotton of his zipped up hoodie, Stiles shoved his hands in his pockets, looking around for any sign of whatever the noise he had heard moments before. It sounded like a mix of a thud, growl, and moan.

Then, he heard a faint rustling. As he squinted through the dark night through his backyard, he saw a single leg protruding from the side of a bush.

Heart hammering, Stiles tried to calm his breathing as he slowly walked down the steps, crunching through the leaves in the backyard.

_Probably some stupid kid from my school trying to pull a prank_, Stiles thought moodily.

Reaching the bush, Stiles looked over to see it wasn't a teenager, but in fact a full grown adult. Eyebrows crinkling, Stiles bent down so he was bobbing on his heels, almost kneeling, so he could get a better look.

The man was dressed up with the works – fangs, claws, fake blood, ripped clothes. Stiles rolled his eyes, kicking the man a little as he stood up, expecting him to jump out at any minute.

"Hey, buddy, if you want to scare people, why not try hiding in the _front lawn _of your _own house_? Not creeping out in my backyard cause for a second you really freaked me out and I don't get scared easily so you're going to seriously scare the shit out of some little kid."

The man groaned a little, stirring in his position on the ground.

"What's going on... where the hell am I... what smells like soap?"

Stiles frowned, cocking his head as he leaned down a litle again, though it was just his back hunching over slightly. He frowned as the man's eyes suddenly snapped open, making Stiles jump back.

He was wearing bright red contacts, which glowed in the night. Stiles felt his mouth flop open as he stared into the other's eyes.

"Okay, those contacts are _awesome_. So freaking realistic... All the red contacts I've seen on people look really stupid like they're so obviously fake but those are pretty cool. Did you order them online?"

The man's eyes turned into slits as he slowly sat up, glancing down at his arms. Stiles watched with horror as the fake gashes slowly disappeared. The only thing remaining that would show there was every any mark there was the fake blood...

Stiles blinked, looking at the man's face, who was staring up at Stiles with a stone-cold expression.

"Who are you?"

Flinching at the man's voice, Stiles gulped.

"I should be asking you that. You're in _my _backyard."

The man looked genuinely startled by that. Glancing around him, he hummed a little under his breath, as if realizing 'Oh yeah look at that I'm not in my own backyard but some random kid's backyard'. Stiles frowned, crossing his arms.

"Look whatever trick you just did with disappearing scratches and stuff was cool and all but seriously what kind of adult tries to scare kids? Like seriously, _who does that_?"

Cocking his head, the man gave Stiles a curious glance.

"What do you mean?"

"Um, I mean your _costume_?"

Suddenly the man barked out laughter, nodding as he slowly stood up. Stiles's eyes widened when he saw the man tower over him, his red eyes menacing in the dark. The way it was lit in the back, the only visible light gently pouring out from the open back door of Stiles's house, Stiles had trouble seeing the man himself. All that he could see, really, were his bright red eyes, that actually seemed to be glowing...

"Right, I forgot, it's Halloween, isn't it? Terrible night for a full moon."

Stiles glanced up, but didn't see the moon anywhere. He supposed it was hidden away by the trees, otherwise it'd be a lot brighter outside.

"What are you ta-"

"Stiles! Are you out there!"

Jumping, Stiles turned in a half circle so he was facing the back porch, his back to the strange man standing in the bush. Mr. Stilinkski stood in the back door, the light shaping around him, almost in a full-body halo.

"C'mon back in! We still got lots of candy to pass out!"

"Sorry, coming! Hold on a sec!" Stiles was glad his dad couldn't see him in the night, or else he'd see the weird man also, and that wouldn't look to good for Stiles. "Look, buddy, you should just -"

Stiles blinked when he turned back around, surprised to see no one there.

"Leave?"

The wind blew violently, ripping at Stiles's sleeves. Tucking his hands in his pockets, he stood up on his toes to glance around, as if to see the man and where he had gone. But despite the fallen leaves scattered over every inch of ground, the man had left soundlessly, disappearing all together.

After a few seconds of looking for the man, Stiles sighed, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands, then walked back to his back porch. Glancing one last, pitiful time from the back stood, Stiles gave up, going back inside.

_Well, that was the weirdest thing to happen in, like, ever,_ Stiles thought, shaking his head.

"What were you doing back there?" Mr. Stilinski raised an eyebrow, leading Stiles back to the front porch where a few kids had begun to crowd, waiting earnestly for their promised candy.

"Sorry, thought I heard something."

"Don't go wondering off like that, okay? Or better yet, I'll go get the refill next time."

"Yeah, right. Sorry dad." Stiles tried his best to smile reassuringly, but found himself unable to reassure his dad, or even himself, of what had just happened.


	2. Chapter Two

Guys I'm so sorry that it's been like over a month since I've updated, but from now on I promise a steady stream of chapters ;x; I just needed a break of writing after I finished The City Never Sleeps. Plus it took forever to figure out how I wanted to write this chapter and I just? ? ? So this is a shit-tastic filler chapter, sorry.

Anyway, new chapter, here you go, thanks everyone for being so patient /flails

* * *

**Two **

Stiles slouched grouchily into his seat, crossing his arms and resting his chin on them. The class poured in slowly at first, then a mass overflow as students scrambled to get in desperately before the bell wrung. Scott dropped heavily in his normal desk beside Stiles. Bags under his eyes, the other looked utterly exhausted.

"Long night?" Stiles raised an eyebrow.

"You don't know the half of it," Scott mumbled, pulling out some paper and pens, getting ready for the notes they would most likely be taking during the first lecture of the day. "Still wish you had gone. Good _God_ it was like the girls all decided clothes were overrated or something. At one point, Lydia even made out with Alli-"

"Stop!" Stiles clamped his hands over his ears. "Dude, sorry, I just don't want to hear about how awesome the night was that I was unable to go to. But, on a completely non-sexual topic of Halloween, you won't believe what happened to_ me_."

Scott raised an eyebrow, obviously disappointed he was unable to share the details of the heated party.

"Don't tell me your dad scared away all the kids again...?"

Stiles snorted, shaking his head. "Oh, God, of course not. Though that _was_ funny, and extremely memorable, but anyway, it was even weirder. I was inside getting candy when I -"

"Stilinski! Why is it that whenever I walk into the class ready to start, you're always the one talking the loudest?" The teacher sighed, shaking his head a little before sitting at his desk, shuffling around a few papers. "Alright, everyone, take out your homework..."

Rolling his eyes, Stiles pulled out his homework, putting up a finger as if to signal to Scott to wait. He ripped off a corner of an old worksheet, and quickly scribbled across,

_ill tell u at lunch_

Scott received the note, and nodded once at Stiles before focusing back on the front of the classroom.

...

Sitting at his normal table, Stiles sighed, teeth clenched. Foot tapping against the ground in an irregular beat, Stiles slowly began to take out his lunch – a sandwich and a small bag of chips – waiting impatiently for Scott to show up. When he saw the other, he was walking in with Allison, Lydia, and Jackson.

Heart reacting the normal way it did whenever he saw Lydia, Stiles tried to ignore the fast-paced beating from his chest. Eyes meeting Scott's immediately, he jerked his head over. Scott seemed to remember Stiles's note from that morning, and said something to Allison before ducking from the conversation, sliding into the seat across from Stiles.

"Okay, so what happened?"

Stiles sighed, shaking his head a little. "You won't believe it. Some guy decided it'd be funny to try and scare some little kids or something. Cept he was in my backyard... but that's not the weird part. He was like, passed out, smothered with scratches and bruises and blood when I found him. Then he woke up, completely unaware of where he was. And, then, like magic, all his injuries like... vanished."

"As in, disappeared completely? In thin air?" Scott sounded sceptical, an eyebrow quirked up. He knew Stiles was a fan of RPGs and SciFi movies, so he knew the other's imagination was a little wild at times, but even for Stiles this seemed a little weird. It was even weirder, though, that he looked so confused about it.

"Yes! I told you, nothing like last year. And then my dad came to the back door, wondering where I was cause I was supposed to be inside getting more candy. So I told him I'd be in in a second. We literally talked for five seconds. And when I turned around, the man was just... gone."

"Gone. Like the wounds."

"Yeah. And he didn't make a sound, despite the fact that there were like dead leaves _everywhere_. It'd be impossible to not make a noise getting away that fast."

Scott frowned a little, looking down at his lunch a little uncomfortably. Stiles noticed, despite the other's obvious attempts at trying to hide his unease.

"You don't belive me." Stiles's chest deflated a little, his voice dropping to just a plain tone. He stared at Scott, no expression lining his face. Scott winced.

"I mean, just think about it. Stiles, it was Halloween. You sure you weren't dreaming?"

"It would have had to be one damn believeable dream, Scott."

"But Stiles, some guy unconcious with lots of scratches all over, then, poof, nothing? And then he just disappears himself? You have to understand where I'm coming from."

Stiles sighed, frowning at his sandwich. Thinking about it, it was pretty drastic. He didn't blame Scott for not believing him. But he _knew_ what he saw, and he _knew_ it was real. It was too real to have been a dream. Plus, he had checked that morning, and sure enough, there was dried blood where the man was in the bush, plus the massive indent where someone had fallen and crushed the shrubbery. There was no doubt in Stiles's mind that that man was real, and still out there.

Maybe it was just some cool magic trick, though. It wouldn't be that surprising, Stiles supposed. It _was_ Halloween, crazy things happened...

Yet somehow, Stiles still couldn't convince himself that it was all some trick.

"Whatever."

Scott frowned, shrugging. "I'll believe whatever you say. If you're convinced it happened, then it happened. But obviously this guy sounds like a nut job either way, and maybe it'd just be better to stay clear of him?"

Stiles swished his mouth from side to side, then sighed, smiling. "It's not like I was gunna hunt him down or anything."

"Yeah, well, you never know with you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Scott grinned, winking. "I'm sure you know."

As Stiles was about to respond back with some smart-alecky response, his back pocket vibrated. Grabbing his phone from his jeans, he flipped it open, reading the text he had received from his dad.

_Can you grab the groceries after school?_

Stiles rolled his eyes before respond.

_sho thing wat u need_

Mr. Stilinski's response beeped in Stiles's inbox almost immediatley after Stiles sent the message.

_Milk, apples, spaghetti noodles, broccoli, and those cheese balls you know I like._

_nice try, dad_

_It was worth a shot._

...

Derek frowned. He didn't remember much from the previous night. All he knew was that he somehow lost control on a full moon for the first time in what felt like forever, and that there was some kid with a red sweatshirt...

Shivering a little, Derek shook his hands out in front of him, stretching out his arms and rolling his neck around in a circle, cracking his neck.

Jumping up from his perch on the rotting staircase in his half-burnt house, Derek grabbed his signature leather jacket, then headed out the front door of the house. Moving to his car, pulling the clacking keys from his pocket, Derek slid a pair of sunglasses over his dark eyes smoothly before slidding in the front seat, turning on the ignition.

It took approximately five minutes to arrive in town. Pulling in smoothly in a parking spot, Derek grunted as he opened the front door, stepping out and walking towards the small grocery store.

Grabbing one of the smaller carts, Derek dropped his keys in the small basket on top, then pushed his way through the store.

Moving straight to the produce, Derek picked up an apple, examining it for bruises when out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of red brush past him, moving straight to the container of apples beside him.

Glancing up, Derek was frozen. It was the kid, from the night before, the one with the red sweatshirt. The same sweatshirt was draped over his arms now, zipped up halfway, leaving just enough unzipped to see the Captain America emblem on his shirt beneath. The kid it seemed hadn't realized Derek was there, right beside him. Surely he remember Derek from Halloween night? It wasn't like something that happened in the norm...

After picking up a few assorted apples and placing them in the black plastic basket around his arm, the kid glanced up once, about to turn before he seemed to realize.

Jumping, the kid stared at Derek, his eyes open wide. His eyebrows rose high on his forehead, his lips slightly parted.

"It's... you."

Derek wanted to roll his eyes and mock the kid. 'Wow, nice observation' or maybe 'No shit'. Instead, in a terrible attempt to cover himself, Derek cleared his throat a little, feigning confusion.

"Excuse me?"

"The man from last night!" The shorter pointed at Derek, backing away a single step, nodding to himself. "I'm sure it's you. There's no way it isn't. Look, you even have a tear on the bottom of your shirt. The man from last night had that _exact same tear_ in that _exact same shirt_."

Derek shook his head a little, shrugging his shoulders in a lazy raise, dropping them heavily. "Nope, sorry, don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, so what, you expect me to believe you have some evil twin with the same clothes or something?" The other paused briefly before tilting his head a little forward. "You don't, do you?"

Snorting, Derek shook his head. There was something... weird about this kid. Different. Intruiging, almost. Derek couldn't place it, but part of him wanted to continue talking to him, get to know him. Obviously, that wasn't possible. Derek's secret was almost slipping away from him. He doubted he would be able to convince the highschooler it wasn't him who had fallen in his backyard.

"No, I do not. But I'm sorry to say I have no idea what you're talking about. Good afternoon."

Pushing past the other, he was a few steps away before the other grabbed his arm, pulling him around.

"Well, what's your name?"

Derek felt his eyebrows drop, surprised. Blinking a few times, he slowly spoke. "Derek."

"I'm Stiles. Nice to meet you, _stranger_." Stiles dropped a heavily implying wink before turning on his heel, heading towards the broccoli.

Watching after the shorter, Derek could only watch with disbelief. That did _not_ just happen.


	3. Chapter Three

Hey everyone, sorry about the super super late update. But I am officially on summer break which means writing, writing, writing! Updates will hopefully be out fast and frequently! And sorry about this chapter, it's kind of filler, but important? ?

And I got a review from someone who doesn't have an account, so from now on if I get anymore of those I'll be sure to respond to you guys via A/Ns in the beginning uvu Everyone else should be receiving direct responses from me!

Bananaman : Thank you, I have my worries about how it's going so far, but I'm trying my best to work with what I have c:

Anyway, sorry, ramble ramble ramble, enjoy orz

* * *

**Three**

"We're going apple picking, and you are _not_ allowed to say no."

Stiles closed his eyes for a brief second before closing his locker, immediately seeing Scott standing with his arms crossed. Scott raised his eyebrows a little expectantly, as if waiting for Stiles's answer. It was obvious his argument against Stiles's refusal was already being thought through.

"I don't know..."

"Why are you avoiding me? You've been acting really weird since Halloween..."

Taking in a deep breath, Stiles just shook his head a little, muttering, "You don't know the half of it." It had been two weeks since Stiles ran into Derek at the grocery store. And the past two weekends, he had managed to back out of any plans Scott tried to make with Stiles so the short-haired could try and figure out who Derek was. Stiles couldn't explain it, but he couldn't get the mysterious man out of his head. It was frustrating. Of course, Stiles had been coming up with BS excuses. He wasn't going to explain to Scott his fascination with a man who seemed to be a ghost.

"Well, whatever reason you're going to spew out this time, it's crap and we both know it." Scott gave him a pointed look before proceeding. "So, you're going to drive yourself over to my house at nine tomorrow morning, and we're going to go with Lydia, Jackson, and Allison."

"So I'm fifth-wheeling. Really, Scott?"

A wicked grin pulled across Scott's face. He hoisted his backpack higher up his shoulder before shrugging. "Allison is bringing an old friend of her's. It was actually her friend's idea to go apple picking. Apparently you and Jordan have a lot of things in common."

Stiles frowned, glancing at his nails, thinking over his options. Go on a blind date, or research a random man for the third weekend in a row with probably no success?

"Fine. I'll be there at nine. But Jordan better be cute."

Scott nodded once. "Awesome. And I know she will be. She's Allison's neighbor and has been super welcoming ever since she moved to Beacon Hills."

…

Jordan was, in fact, very similar to Stiles. They both played lacrosse and the same video and RPGs, they were both fond of the color red, and the biggest similarity, they were both guys.

Scott claimed he had no idea Jordan was a boy, he had assumed as Stiles had. Allison was extremely embarrassed, and so was Jordan. Allison had somehow been under the impression that though Stiles had been in love with Lydia for years and years, he was gay. Stiles had decided not to take it offensively, but he felt extremely bad for Jordan. It had to be hardest for him. The poor guy had been run out of his private school and into homeschooling because of bullying, and therefor hadn't been able to make new friends – or boyfriends – in a while.

Of course, though, Stiles ended up alone with Jordan almost immediately. Lydia and Jackson disappeared, most likely to make out in a secluded area of trees, and Allison and Scott were instantly lost in their own world. Though they stayed close to Stiles and Jordan, they wandered way ahead of them, and never talked to the two.

Stiles liked Jordan, just didn't... like like Jordan. He was a sweet guy, a year older than Stiles with hair that fell to the ends of his ears in loose waves. He had hazel eyes that crinkled whenever he smiled, giving him a genuine appearance. He had a habit of apologizing profusely though, which got a bit annoying, but Stiles had to hand the kid some credit, he seemed to be completely unfazed about his true self. He wasn't afraid to just talk about whatever with Stiles, which Stiles found rather admirable.

About an hour and a half in, things finally got... interesting.

Jordan had stopped to tie his shoe, and Stiles was mindlessly tossing a few apples into the wicker basket he and Jordan were sharing. Out of the corner of his eye, something flashed past. Frowning, he looked up to see a small tabby sitting beneath a tree close by him, grooming it's paw.

Setting the basket down, Stiles approached the cat slowly before swooping it up. He had moved so quickly the cat had been caught by surprise, luckily, but he didn't struggle against Stiles's hold. Stroking the cat gentle on it's head, Stiles turned to Jordan, who was standing up and giving Stiles a wary gaze.

"Where did that little guy come from?" Jordan approached Stiles, petting the cat himself.

"No idea..." Stiles muttered, but smile as the cat yawned. "He's cute, though. Probably lives here. He doesn't have a collar on, but I highly doubt he's a stray..."

"Why am I not surprised."

A third voice spoke up, starting the two teenagers. Turning around to face the new person, Stiles felt his stomach clench.

"Are you stalking me or something, kid?" Derek mused, crossing his arms.

"No. But I could ask you that. _You_ fell in my backyard, appeared at the grocery store after me, and ran straight into me here." Stiles chewed on the inside of his cheek, glancing warily at Derek.

"Blame the cat for running into you. He escaped."

Stiles's eyes widened. "He's yours?"

"No, I'm allergic." Derek shrugged. "I know the owner of this orchard, and she asked if I wanted to come by a few weeks ago. I finally decided to head over here."

"You just happened to come on the same day as me?" Stiles grinned jokingly, but the smile disappeared almost immediately. Derek had stepped forward, Snatching the cat from Stiles's arms. Tucking the tabby under his arm with a seemingly tight grip, Derek's lips thinned, his gaze turning into a glare.

"Whatever. See you around."

As soon as he had appeared, Derek was gone. Stiles blinked a few times as the other disappeared among the trees. Jordan shifted a little uncomfortably, drawing Stiles back to reality. He winced, smiling apologetically.

"Sorry, Jordan. That was Derek. Just an acquaintance of mine."

Jordan chewed on his lip for a second, something flickering through his eyes that Stiles couldn't quite decipher.

"What's wrong?"

"Um, is his last name by any chance Hale?"

Stiles paused for a moment. "Oh, uh, I have no idea, actually. This is only my third time meeting him."

Glancing at his feet, Jordan kicked at the ground with the tip of his shoe as if he were trying to unlodge a rock or piece of dirt. "His face seems familiar, and whenever I think of a Derek, I automatically think of Derek Hale. Wasn't his family like killed in some freak fire? And his sister murdered at the beginning of the year?"

Face dissolving into a completely blank gaze, Stiles smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. How could he have been so _stupid_? His dad was the freaking sheriff, and had been working on the Laura Hale case! He hadn't made the connection of Derek to that, though. He had heard the name maybe once or twice, but never thought to connect it back to September. Groaning, dragging his fingers over his cheeks, Stiles sighed.

"Yeah, that's probably him..."

"Just... be careful, okay? A lot of people think he killed his sister. There was no proof against him, of course, but people talk... only survivor except his uncle, but his uncle is paralyzed completely in the hospital, or something like that. I'm not really sure, actually." Jordan shrugged, then leaned down to grab their wicker basket. "C'mon, we should try and find the others."

"Sure," Stiles muttered, glancing once behind him again as they began to jog down the path to catch up with Allison and Scott. Somehow he felt there was something a little more to Derek than what Jordan knew, he just couldn't place how he knew...

…

Stiles dropped in the swivel chair at his desk. The group had stayed until lunch where they ate a picnic Lydia had prepared. Stiles had kept an eye out for any signs of Derek, but he hadn't shown up again.

Opening the laptop, Stiles chewed absentmindedly at his thumb nail. All afternoon he had thought about Derek, trying to remember anything he could about the case. But his dad hadn't said anything negative about the Hale case, just that whatever or whoever killed his sister was insane.

As soon as the computer switched on, Stiles pulled up a search engine, immediately typing 'Derek Hale Beacon Hills'. Search after search popped up, all sorts of different blogs and threads appearing. Each one was the same, Stiles realized as he clicked and scanned each one briefly. They all talked about how Derek was obviously at fault for Laura's death, and whether there was any proof or not, they believed what they wanted to believe.

After reading a few different people's points, Stiles frowned, and closed the computer. Somehow, Derek just didn't seem like a killer...

Then again, the man had mysteriously appeared in his backyard, bloody and cut up one minute, completely healed the next.

Pushing away from the desk, Stiles ground his teeth together. He needed to find Derek again. He couldn't explain it exactly, but something about the man interested him, and he wanted to learn more. But this time, he wanted to learn more from Derek, not from strangers on the internet.


	4. Chapter Four

Alright you guys, I kinda have some bad news. Because of some events that happened yesterday with my best friend, updates will be rather slow again. I feel extremely bad about having to leave off after this chapter, but it was already half done, so I decided to finish and upload it before leaving again for a while. But this is a good chapter, I promise! And like twice as long as normal! Of course chapters are probably going to be about this long now, _but still_, long chapter = good chapter. And trust me, you all will like it!

Also I'm not really the type of person to beg for reviews, but seeing as my friend (who was sort of subbing as a beta until I found a new one) cannot go over this chapter, it's going to have quite a bit of errors. Critical reviews from you guys really do help, or even just normal reviews really boost my excitement to get back to working on this story ;v;

Bananaman : Thanks! And yeah the image of Derek holding a kitten somehow got in my head and I just had to include it somehow. A little random, but no one's complaining c;

Thanks, a thousand apologies, enjoy ~

* * *

**Four**

_Red. It was everywhere. Derek tried to reach a hand out, to grab the red, to pull it to him, but it didn't seem to be tangible. The more he grabbed, trying to touch what clouded his vision, the more desperate and anxious he became. Soon, he was smashing his palms to his eyes, trying to get rid of it. But as soon as he opened his eyes again, in the middle of that red formed a shape._

_What was originally a faded blob grew larger and more vivid, until Derek found himself standing in front of Stiles. A shiver ran down his spine as Stiles grabbed his outstretched hands, a faint smile spreading across his face. He nodded once at Derek before, pulling the other close._

Derek stared at the ceiling of his small apartment. His breathing was strangely even, as if he had just woken up from a relaxing dream. Of course, there had been nothing relaxing at all about having the same dream he had been having the past two weeks. Honestly, all Derek knew about Stiles was his first name. Yet somehow the kid had filled his thoughts what felt like 24/7. He had a solid week of pleasent dreams before Stiles pushed his way into Derek's sleep, as well.

Rubbing grumpily at the crust that had collected in his eyes, Derek let a long yawn escape past his lips before pushing the sheets back. Cracking his back and neck as he stood up beside the bed, Derek squinted out the window at the sun, peeking behind thick, black clouds. A frown tugged at the edges of his lips.

_I didn't know it was supposed to rain today_, Derek thought dully before making his way to the small kitchen.

Going through his morning routine came naturally. He could probably be asleep and still get through it all. He always made coffee first. He would sit on the counter as it was being made, grabbing whatever book he was in the middle of reading. He'd get through a few pages before the sweet ambrosia was ready to waken him. If the coffee didn't wake him up, he'd take a cold shower. If it woke him up a little too much, he'd take a hot shower. Then get dressed and go on with the day. Simplicity was what he liked most.

Starting the machine with the preground beans, Derek stiffled back another yawn. He shook his head a little. _Really need to wake up. These repetivite dreams have taken a toll out on me_, Derek mused a little before sliding easily on the counter, his heels clicking against the lower cabinet doors.

Reaching for the book that was normally placed to his left for easy access in the morning – he always placed it there at night before he went to bed if he had read at all during the day – he surprisingly found his hand clawing at air. Turning his gaze a little, he found the book was missing from the counter.

Jumping down, he stepped back, getting a better look at the kitchen. The book appeared to be missing from the set area. Scratching at the band of his boxers, Derek's frowned deepened. It wasn't like him to not remember to put it back on the counter...

Glancing quickly at the coffee machine, Derek swiftly moved from the kitchen to the living room. Resting soundly on the small coffee table was his book. The book was open about halfway, where a small red and black bookmark rested along the inside edge. The pages were fluttering every so slightly at the corners, as if someone had just been flipping through it.

That was when he smelled it. Someone else was in the apartment.

Tightening his position, he was prepared to defend himself whether it be againt another werewolf or just a typical robbert, but swift hands grabbed his waist from behind before kneeing him straight in the groan before he could do anything. A sharp hiss came from his clenched teeth as he fell to his knees. Turning his head to see his attacker, he felt his head turned back again, facing the small couch.

"Uh uh." A voice scolded playfully behind him. Derek frowned, not sure who it was talking. He wasn't able to get a clear sense of anything, what with the throbbing pain between his legs. "Keep your eyes forward, big boy!"

"Who are you," Derek muttered.

"Well now what's the fun in that?" It was a woman. Definitely a woman. She snorted. Derek could hear her clicking her canines together in an almost impatient way, as if ticked off that she had to be there with him.

He listened closely as she leaned in, her lips right beside his ear. "Close your eyes. And if you don't, I'll make you."

Derek clenched his jaw, but did as he was told. He could fight against her if need be. However, at the moment, he didn't feel any violent offense coming from her. It was more like she was some form of messanger, just sent there to talk to him, not to torture him. He'd let her talk first, at least, before attempting to see who she was.

The woman crossed the room, her heels lightly clicking against the wooden floor. Derek listened as she sat heavily on the couch, setting her feet on the table in front of her. He could imagine her smirking at him, kneeling with his eyes closed, almost like a sign of defeat.

_Not even close_, he thought bitterly.

"I was told you'd put up quite a fight. Suppose they were wrong?"

"Of course not. I'm just curious."

"Honest. Good." He could definitely hear a smirk in her voice. "Well, Derek, I have a few... wolf things I need to talk to you about." So she knew he was a werewolf. At least that settled that.

"I don't remember doing anything against the code, if you're a hunter."

She snorted again. "Oh honey, I'm no hunter. At least... not a hunter you're familiar with."

Derek felt his eyebrow crinkle. Curiosity definitely had him locked, now. There was no way he was going to ruin any chance of learning why this woman was there by attacking her.

The woman shifted again on the couch, clicking her canines again. This time it seemed more like she was trying to figure out how to talk to Derek, versus being annoyed. She took a deep breath before speaking.

"Do you know anything about an alpha wolf living in Beacon Hills?"

"No." Derek immediately responded. "Well, I've sensed the presence of another wolf, but I don't know who it is. I haven't been threatened in anyway, so I haven't been worrying much about it."

"What about your sister's death? Laura? That _had_ to be another wolf, right?"

Gulping, Derek struggled to find words. He spoke after a long pause. "Yes. But there haven't been deaths other than that... so until something else happens, I'm not going to track down the alpha."

"But there _is_ an alpha?"

"Most likely."

It was like Derek could hear the gears turning in the stranger's head. Silence filled the air as she was thinking, obviously, about what next she was supposed to ask. She hadn't exactly given Derek much information about why she was there. Which was probably the point, yet Derek had been hoping for a little more. Maybe it was wise to see who she was. He'd hold on for another few minutes, though, before doing anything rash. He could always ask questions without being violent, he supposed.

"Alright, well, Derek," She started speaking again, snapping Derek out of his thoughts,"has there been any sign of... abnormal activity?"

"You'll have to be more specific than that. I'm a werewolf. That's pretty abnormal as it is." Derek would have rolled his eyes if they weren't closed.

"Fine, _sassy. _Abnormal as in not human, but not werewolf."

Derek frowned. "Some animal?"

"Not quite. Closer to a human, since it has the same characteristics a werewolf has. The appearance of a human, yet with... bonuses."

"Bonuses."

"Yes, bonuses. Like how you're a human with the exception that you can change your appearance to that of a wolf. Your senses have been sharpened. You know, everything that makes you a werewolf is almost considered a _bonus_. Well, in this case, it's a human, but with bonuses, just not the same bonuses as you."

Derek tried to work through her words, slightly confused, but able to grasp the basics of what she was saying. "In that case, no. I haven't."

"Nothing? Nothing at all?"

"Is this why you said you were a hunter I wasn't familiar with? You're hunting some... other, thing?"

The hesitation that filled the room was prominent before the intruder slowly spoke. "Yes."

"But who are you?"

This time, when she didn't answer, there was no hesitation. It was a clear _no answer_. Derek snarled a little.

"Who. Are. You."

When he didn't receive an answer, he quickly sprung up, opening his eyes, nails and fangs elongated. But no one was there. Instead, the curtains fluttered in front of an open window, where this woman obviously had escaped out of. Derek could hear the rain begin to fall from the sky, gentle, then furious.

_I need to get out of here_, Derek thought grumpily before staking back to the kitchen. As he pulled the now-made coffee from the machine, he slowly realized he had only been in his underwear all morning.

...

Stiles sighed as he dropped into the padded seat of the booth. Scott convinced him to go see a movie, then grab lunch. Stiles had joked that Scott better watch out when planning for them to hang out, because soon Allison may become jealous and accuse the other of stealing her boyfriend. Scott defended Allison by saying she was sorry about the Jordan incident, and that it had also happened a week ago. That didn't stop Stiles from teasing the others about it.

"God, I'm starving," Stiles spoke around a mouthful of sandwhich. Scott rolled his eyes, picking up his own sandwhich. "That movie really made me hungry. Like, watching all that action, while most of it taking place in a dessert? It was draining, man."

Scott raised an eyebrow. "You claim every action movie we ever see is 'draining'."

Shrugging nonchalontly, Stiles took another big bite. "It's not like I'm lying."

The two just sat, the only sounds between them chewing and swallowing. Conversations drifted through the crowded cafe, filling the air with a pleasent, homey feel. Stiles loved going to little places like this, especially by himself. It was so easy to just listen in to another conversation while eating and / or doing homework.

After a few minutes of silence between them, Scott's phone vibrated from his back pocket. Putting down the chip he was about eat, he fished the phone out, and quickly pushed a button to answer.

"Hello?"

Stiles raised his eyebrows at Scott, as if asking who it was. Scott mouthed 'Allison' before saying "No, I'm not busy tonight."

Tossing his hands in the air with frustration, Stiles shook his head at Scott. "Dude, we were going to have a Resident Evil marathon. I _still_ haven't seen the latest one, and I'm dying to know about Luther!"

Scott rolled his eyes at Stiles.

"Allison? Stiles is complaining about me saying I'm not busy... well technically... just watching a movie, we can do that anytime."

"NO WE CANNOT!"

"Yes I'm sure you did hear Stiles scream... invite him too? I dunno, after last week... okay okay sorry not funny I know!" Scott took a deep breath, nodding a little bit. "Yeah, okay, sounds good. I'll tell him the invitation stands."

Stiles held his hands up. "What the Hell, dude?"

"We're going to a club tonight."

"We're under 18."

"Like that's gunna stop us. Apparently Lydia already made us all fake IDs."

Stiles raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, you too."

Moving his jaw a little, Stiles picked at the edge of his mostly finished sandwhich before giving in and sighing. "Fine. We'll go to the club. But you freaking owe me, man. I need to see what happens!"

Scott snorted before shrugging. "Whatever dude. You get to see Lydia dance in a club and drink. Get over it."

...

The sky was a pitch black, moonless one, with heavy clouds from the storms that morning still lazily rolling through, though they were no longer releasing the rain. A sharp wind cast through the air, biting at bare skin. Stiles loved this time of the year the most. It was cold, and you had the excuse to bundle up and get cozy.

"Why does it have to be so freaking cold!" Lydia muttered under her breath, nudging her nose further into her scarf. She, Jackson, Allison, Scott, and Stiles had been waiting in line for about twenty minutes, though their wait would end rather soon. There were only three people in front of them, and the bouncer seemed about ready to get out of the cold himself.

"_You're_ the one who decided to wear next to nothing," Jackson muttered, barely loud enough for everyone to hear. Allison smirked at Lydia, who's eyes turned into a sharp glare at Jackson.

"Shut up. Be happy I brought you along. I could have asked Stiles to be my date, and you wouldn't have been able to do anything about it."

Jackson just rolled his eyes while Stiles stared at Lydia with a wide gaze. Jackson had a slight point, though. Lydia was dressed in a dark lavender sheath that barely covered her thighs. Sure she was wearing a leather jacket and a white knit scarf, but her legs were mostly bare and the dress was no doubt thin.

"Next time we'll all just dress a little more warmly." Allison shrugged. She had definitely dressed thinking about the wait they'd have to endure. Snug jeans, knee-high boots, and what looked like a very heavy sweater covered every inch of her skin. A signature beany was pulled over her ears, and she continued to nuzzle her face either into her gloves or into Scott's shoulder.

Stiles chewed on the inside of his lip, frowning. He glanced ahead at the bouncer. He was the only one worried they wouldn't be allowed in. The IDs Lydia had for them all definitely looked legit, and Stiles was sure he was over-thinking it all, but he couldn't help but shiver from worry.

The party ahead of them moved into the heavy door, an eruption of multicolored lights and blasting music pouring onto the streets for a few seconds as they hurried into the club. A burst of warm air settled over Stiles, and he and the bouncer shared an slight moment of comfort before the chilly Autumn night ripped it away again.

Lydia hurriedly passed the IDs to everyone without the bouncer noticing. They'd be in in a few moments.

Meanwhile, waiting, Stiles stared out at the silent street. There was barely anything else on this stretch. A few buildings, mostly smaller or run down shops, and the block behind was a long strand of apartments. Though apparently the club was well known and popular, so obviously the emptiness of the street didn't bother many people.

"Alright, you five, you're a group?"

Stiles looked up at the bouncer, gulping a little nervously.

"Yes, we are." Lydia pushed her way to the front, making Stiles awkardly step back straight into Jackson, who just pushed him back forward and rolled his eyes.

"IDs."

Lydia easily held out her ID, and the bouncer nodded her in. Stiles found everyone else moving before him, getting that same nod. He handed the bouncer his ID, trying to take a deep breath, but before he could come up with some form of excuse or apology, he was nodded on.

Breath shaking as he let it out slowly, Scott raised an eyebrow at the other as the five quickly went into the club.

Stiles followed everyone as they made their way around the edge of the room before finding an open booth. Most people were on the dancefloor, shaking and moving in a way that almost hypnotized Stiles. He wondered how obvious it was that this was his first time in a club.

The five got settled in the booth before Jackson spoke up.

"Well I nominate Stiles for drink run."

Lydia snorted. "Yeah, if you want him to spill everything we have on his way back."

Not sure who to be more offended by, Stiles quickly stood up from the booth, crossing his arms. "I'll go get everything. Just tell me what you want."

Cocking her head a little, Lydia slowly smiled up at Stiles, resting her elbow on the table, then her chin on the back of her hand. "Well, well, if you're so sure. Everyone will start off with something small for now, just enough to get a little something before we dance. So jell-o shots to start."

Jackson gave Lydia an apprehensive look. "Too sweet."

Meeting Jackson's gaze, Lydia's smile never faltered. "You'll have what I say first, then you can move on to something else."

Jaw clenching, Jackson just muttered a little under his breath, not rejecting. Stiles glanced between them quickly before nodding once.

"It's on my tab, sweetie. I come often." Lydia winked at Stiles as he smiled quickly, turning around to head to the bar.

The smell of alcohal grew stronger, clogging his nose, making him a little dizzy. Stiles wasn't exactly used to such a wide array of options like this, but at least he didn't have to come up with something on the spot, he was already told what to order.

After getting the bright blue shots, Stiles quickly made his way back to the table. Setting them in the middle, Lydia giggled.

"Alright everyone, on three!"

...

Derek gently dropped the paper bags at his feet. He had gone grocery shopping hours before, and had stopped for dinner on his way back home. Glancing up at the sky, he frowned a little. All day, the morning's events had been tugging at his mind.

Tucking his keys into his back pocket, he began to push open the door to the lobby of the building when he heard some commotion behind him. Turning slightly, he watched the backdoor of the building across the street open. Derek was aware of the club that had opened less than a month previous, though he had never ventured to it. He wasn't much of a party-er, and the lights and noise gave him headaches.

Squinting, Derek watched a figure walk through the back door. It was a man, his hands in his pockets. Derek couldn't make out his face very well, but after a few moments of watching him, he realized he was drunk.

Shaking his head, Derek turned back around to open the door. Putting his keys back in his pocket, he collected all the bags and walked through the front door. As he turned to close the door, he saw the figure begin to walk farther, closer and closer to the road. Derek could hear cars in the distance, coming down that road. It didn't seem like the drunk man did.

Derek's jaw clenched as he thought over his options. Let the drunk guy get hurt, or stop him and get him back in the club.

Prepared to go with the first, Derek started to close the door again. Until he saw it. A flash of red on the man across the street, caught as he stumbled under the light of a street lamp. A flash of red Derek was all too familiar with.

Not wasting another second, Derek sprung across the porch, glanced up to see a car heading straight in Stiles's direction, and hurried across the street. Grabbing Stiles - who was then in the middle of the road – by the waist, Derek dragged him backwards and towards the werewolf's apartment.

Stiles seemed confused as to what had just happened. He stood, blinking up at Derek. His hands were on Derek's shoulders, his mind obviously working around the fact that Derek had just saved him. Then, his eyes settled on Derek's, and Derek felt his body flush at how close the two were. Stiles was pressed against Derek's chest, and Derek's hands were still protectively gripping Stiles's sides.

Looking up so their eyes locked, Stiles suddenly burst into laughter.

"Oh my God, it's _you_!"

Derek was flustered. He had no idea what to say to that. Peeling himself away from Stiles while making sure the other was safely away from the road, he crossed himself and frowned.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Um, uh... Derek? Derek, yeah, Derek!" Stiles shook his head, waving a finger at Derek. His words were slurred, and Derek could smell the alcohol on every inch of him. "You're like, everywhere I go, man. Next thing I know you're gunna show up at school. Maybe I should tell my dad on you."

Sighing, Derek pinched the bridge of his nose. "Stiles, you're underage, why were you at that club?"

"Oh, yeah, right. Not telling dad, he'll arrest me..."

"Arrest you?"

Stiles's face split into a wide grin. "Copper in the house!"

It took Derek a moment to realize what Stiles meant. "You're dad is a police officer, and yet you do something as stupid as this? What if you were killed? You realize you almost ran straight into a car, right?"

"Wow, what a party pooper..." Stiles muttered. "Anyway, why do you always just appear outta nowhere. I mean it's like every time I go out, you just magically appear there!" Stiles threw his hands in the air, then gasped, grabbing Derek's shoulders again before whispering, "Are you my guardian angel?"

Derek snorted. "I'm nowhere near an angel."

Stiles stared at Derek for a moment with a blank expression before errupting into giggles. "That's cute."

"What? What is?"

"That," Stiles waved his fingers in a circle in Derek's face, his other hand still grasping Derek's shoulder, "snort thing. It was _cute_. That doesn't fit you, you're like this big scary man. Big scary _guardian angel_."

"I'm not your guardian angel."

"Eh, you won't convince me otherwise." Stiles winked, pulling away. Before Derek realized what he was doing, Stiles was heading back towards the road. "I should be off, my friends are probably looking for me -"

Before Stiles could make his way back onto the street, though, Derek grabbed his arm and yanked him back again. He wasn't sure what he was doing, there were no cars, and even if he wanted to make sure Stiles was alright he could walk him back himself. Yet somehow... he didn't want him to be gone.

Staring down at the red sweatshirt, Derek felt his mouth open, but no words came out. Stiles frowned a little at Derek, cokcing his head.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Derek pushed Stiles away. "Go back, find your friends. Just be safe. You're what, 16?"

Stiles frowned, crossing his arms. "No, no, why did you pull me back?"

Derek blinked, but before he could say anything, Stiles grabbed Derek's hands, smiling up at him.

"Thanks for saving me, guardian angel."

"Stiles, I'm not your -"

But before Derek could finish, Stiles leaned up, and let his lips meet Derek's. For a moment, the older was frozen, but then he let his fingers wrap around Stiles's neck, pulling the other closer to him. Derek felt his breath escape in a subtle moan as Stiles dragged the taller's bottom lip between his teeth, sucking gently while nibbling on the end. Yet as fast as it had happened, Stiles was pulling away, leaving a breathless Derek.

Stiles giggled as he rocked on his heels, squeezing Derek's hands, then he turned around and skipped across the road as the door of the club opened, and someone called out for Stiles.

Derek watched him disappear again through the backdoor of the club with whoever it was that had come out for him. Lifting his hand gently to his lips, he prodded them, blinking. Gulping, he turned on his heel and marched into his apartment, trying to collect himself and slow down his heart beat. But no matter how hard he tried to calm down, he couldn't stop shaking, and he couldn't stop seeing red.


	5. Chapter Five

I'm baaack! *crickets play in the background* I love you guys too.

So I'm able to update again, and fast updates! Like a new chapter every other day or something! Not that anyone probably cares, but still. And it took me 12 times to rewrite this chapter, I'm not exaggerating, this chapter was a bitch to write. I kinda forced myself to not sleep until it was done and... that... was a bad idea... Anyway! A little change has been made! This story has been changed from T to M. I want practice writing smut-filled stuff, so... here we are. This will be interesting. Sorry if any of y'all don't like smut but tough nubs? Haha tough nubs.

Wow I'm really not funny why do I bother.

Bananaman : Thanks c: And yes, drunk Stiles is the best! Don't worry, I'm keeping the guardian angel joke around, that's perfect teasing material!

* * *

**Five**

Stiles groaned into the pillow, grabbing the sides with his hands tightly. His head was throbbing with a very prominent ache, and his entire body felt like it was made of led. The promising chemistry homework he knew he had due the next day didn't encourage him to get up any faster.

He didn't really remember from the previous night's activities. He remembered dancing, getting drunk, then being dropped off at his house by Allison, the only remaining sober member of the five's party. At least she was pretty good about not drinking too much, because Stiles could faintly recall Scott and Jackson doing _something_ they shouldn't have been doing on the dance floor, and Lydia was off dancing and flirting her way from guy to guy.

Turning slowly onto his back, his mattress creaking a little under his shift, Stiles squinted at his room. The corners of his vision seemed a little hazy, but he couldn't tell if that was from his hangover or from him squinting. He didn't want to check by opening his eyes all the way, though, because afternoon sunlight burst through his window, illuminating his bedroom in an unbearable glow.

Dropping the back of his hand over his eyes, Stiles took a few deep breaths before hoisting himself off the bed. Blinking as he turned away from the window, it took him a moment before he was steady again, a dizziness settling over him as he rocked a little in place.

Immediately going to his bathroom, he left the light off, and stared at himself in the mirror.

Lucky for him, his buzz-cut hair meant he didn't have bad bed-head. Unluckily, that meant he had no way to hide his face like Scott was able to do with his shaggy cut. Staring at his reflection, Stiles could see the obvious bags lining his eyes and the pale, chapped lips that were hanging slightly open.

Groaning again, Stiles rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands before shrugging off his clothes and stepping into a scolding hot shower. His skin pricked, hair standing on end as it was attacked by the burning, but soon he was relaxed, standing directly under the head.

Stiles began to hum a faint tune under his breath, lathering some shampoo in his hair. Though his arms ached – for some unknown reason – he pushed past it and let his mind wander.

After the extra long shower, Stiles jumped out, drying his body quickly. Glancing once in the mirror quickly, glad to see he looked at least a little more presentable, he entered his room and rummaged through the drawers until he found the clothes he wanted to wear for the day. Getting dressed, Stiles checked his phone on the table beside his bed. It was a little past three in the afternoon, and he was _starving_.

Taking the stairs two at a time, Stiles burst into the living room, where his dad was watching TV.

"Glad to see you're finally awake."

Stiles cocked his head a little at his dad. "No work?"

Mr. Stilinkski shrugged a little. "Gotta go in tonight. You'll be fine on your own for dinner, right?"

Nodding, Stiles glanced up at the TV. Some stupid soap opera show his dad liked. Well, technically it was a post-apocalyptic-type show about Heaven and angels or _something_ (Stiles never actually paid close attention to it), but Stiles considered the drama to be equivalent to that ofa soap opera, and steered clear of watching it with his dad.

Turning and heading into the kitchen, Stiles chewed on the inside of his lip. A nagging sensation had been pulling at the back of his head all day, something about the previous night, but he couldn't figure it out. When he was in the shower he had a faint memory of being outside the club, but he wasn't sure if it was from when they were waiting to get in or from something else.

Shrugging off the uneasy feeling in his gut, Stiles made himself a PB&J. Taking a bite, then grabbing an apple, Stiles walked back into the hall. About to go back upstairs, he couldn't help but hear a few words that stood out.

"You're my... guardian angel?"

Freezing mid step on the stairs, Stiles began to cough up his PB&J, which seemed to be stuck in the back of his throat. _Guardian angel_. The words burned into the back of Stiles's head as he felt his stomach drop, losing any interest in the lunch in his hands.

"Stiles, are you okay?"

Turning his head a little to see his dad, he knew his skin was paled. He could barely mustered a nod.

"Yeah, dad, peanut butter just a little more sticky than I'm used to."

"Hm... okay. Whatever you say. Better get working on homework soon, kay?"

Stiles nodded furiously before bounding up the stairs, tossing his food in the trash beside his desk, he landed in the revolving chair with a thud. Dropping his forehead on the desk, he pulled out his phone, about to text Scott. But then he realized, what on earth could he possibly tell him? That he made out with the creepy guy from Halloween? Stiles doubted Scott would even remember who Stiles was _talking_ about. Stiles had chose, with reason, to not tell Scott about his freaky meetings with Derek. If the guy really was as deranged as most people on the internet made him out to be, it was best to not think about him too much.

But if what he remembered really happened, and wasn't just some weird dream, then Stiles was screwed. Squeezing his eyes shut, all Stiles could think of was Derek's lips against him, Derek's warm arms around him, Derek's perfectly chiseled face looking down at him...

_And you kissed him first._

Wincing at the thought, Stiles chewed on the inside of his lip. Derek _had_ kissed him back though. He had grabbed Stiles and pulled him closer.

Stiles blinked, drawing himself out of the vivid image of their kiss. He wasn't, _couldn't_ be gay. That just wasn't a thing. He had never looked at guys before that way, had never imagined himself being gay. But with Derek, it was kinda different. It was like it didn't matter that Derek had a dick, simply because it was _Derek_.

Breathing in deeply through clenched teeth, unable to believe how stupid he sounded, Stiles grabbed his backpack and began to take out his agenda and homework. He desperately needed something to get his mind off of Derek's lips, even if that was impossible math problems.

...

"Good morning, Stiles."

"Go 'way," Stiles mumbled under his breath. Face pressed into his arms, a faint headache pressing at the back of his mind, Stiles shook his head. He knew Scott was grinning as he settled in beside Stiles at his desk. The other didn't have a restless night full of thinking about a certain attractive male he had kissed. All he could _think_ about was Derek. Derek's lips, Derek's hands, Derek's eyes... it wasn't good. For his mental or physical health. It really didn't help the assumption everyone already had that he was into dudes also.

"Class starts in a few minutes, I don't think I can."

Stiles sat up, rolling his eyes at Scott. "Gee, really?"

Scott raised an eyebrow, settling in his seat as he began to pull out class essentials. "What crawled up your ass? You're not still hungover, are you?"

Shaking his head, Stiles frowned. "No, got over that yesterday. I didn't get any sleep last night, though. I just _couldn't_ fall asleep, and whenever I did..."

"Not so good dreams?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Sorry, man, sucks to suck."

Stiles shrugged with a sigh. "Whatcha gunna do?"

Opening his mouth to say something more, Scott was interrupted as the teacher walked in. Except she wasn't their normal teacher, but a sub. She had long red hair and was wearing a pants suit. She beamed a genuine smile at the class as she dropped her bag on the ground, collapsing in the chair behind the desk. For a moment, Stiles felt his mind wiped free of any Derek thoughts, and instead excited over the fact that they had a sub.

"Who's idea was it to send teenagers to school at eight in the morning? I say make the little kids go to school early and let you guys sleep in later." The sub rolled her eyes, her smile never faltering.

Eyes widening, Stiles glanced at Scott, who simply shook his head in response. Never had they had such a... relaxed sub before. She definitely looked young, only in her twenties. Barely out of college, Stiles suspected.

"Anyway, sorry, introductions are mandatory of course. My name is Stella Clay, but you all will be calling me Ms. Clay. Your teacher got in a bad car accident over the weekend, and will not be attending school for a few weeks while he recovers." Ms. Clay was standing now, writing her name in a swirly hand-writing that fit her perfectly. When done, she put her hands on her hips and faced the class, her smile as radiant as when she walked in. "If you have any further questions or concerns about your teacher you may talk to me after class or after school, though I frankly don't know much about it."

Stiles shot Scott a grin. A sub for a few weeks sounded like a good time to him. Less work and a fun class. Plus, this sub seemed like a nice person. Scott grinned back before Stiles turned to look at the front.

Eyes meeting Ms. Clay's, Stiles felt his smile disappear. Her eyes were icy blue, and bore straight into Stiles. He felt exposed, like she could see everything in him. For a split moment, a sign of... recognition filtered through her, but she didn't say anything to him. Her mouth opened a little, a flurry of different emotions flickering through her. But, quickly, she recovered and resumed her grin.

"Right, let's get to work." Ms. Clay slowly tore her pointed gaze from Stiles to her desk as she collected the work the teacher left for that period.

A chill running down his spine, Stiles had an uneasy feeling about this new sub.

...

Stiles tapped a finger against the steering wheel nervously. This was a bad idea. A terrible idea. There was no word in the English language to describe how horrible of an idea this was. But did that stop him from going forth with it? Of course not.

Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he looked up at the building full of apartments. He had honestly no idea which one he would find Derek in, but he knew the other lived in _one_ of them. It hadn't been hard to find his way back to the building, surely it wouldn't be hard to find the specific flat?

Shivering despite the blasting warmth coming from the jeep, Stiles took a deep breath and sighed. Now he was getting cold feet. After getting over the weird feeling from the sub, Derek had taken over his mind again. It didn't help that he had fallen asleep in study hall, and Scott had to wake him up from the dream he was having about kissing Derek... and a little more. Scott claimed Stiles was lucky to have him, seeing as Stiles is a sleep talker, things could have been shared that weren't supposed to. Stiles was just grateful he hadn't said Derek's name, or else Scott would _definitely_ be worried then.

_Especially since you're not gay. Right? Right. Of course. Well... maybe. Possibly. Probably? No, no, just... there's a chance... that I'm... gay? Of course I'm not gay, I like girls. But there is bi... No. Absolutely not. No. N. O. With a capitol n. No... fine. Maybe. _

Stiles wanted to roll his eyes at his own thoughts.

Gulping back all fears and confusing feelings, Stiles slammed them to the back of his mind and kicked open the door as he took out the keys. Locking it behind him, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and speed-walked up the stairs and into the lobby where a faint warmth coated him. It was nothing compared to the heating in his car, but he assumed that was since the door was constantly opening that they didn't want to lose too much heat.

A woman in her late thirties sat behind a small counter to Stiles's left. He walked over slowly. She paid him no mind. Hopping a little from foot to foot, he finally got the nerve to speak.

"Um, excuse me, ma'am?"

She looked up, raising a thick eyebrow at him.

"Yes?"

"Do you work here?"

Blinking a little up at Stiles, the woman seemed to refrain a sigh as she nodded slowly. "Yes," She said again, this time with a little more hesitation in her voice.

"Well, could you -"

"_Stiles_?"

Jumping, Stiles whirled around from the woman, and was face to face with Derek. The other had his leather jacket slung over his arm, his eyebrows furrowed on his forehead.

"Derek! Hey! Just the guy I was looking for!" He laughed a little nervously.

"Do you know this kid, Derek?" The woman from the counter piped up. Stiles looked over his shoulder at her. She was raising an eyebrow, looking expectantly at Derek, and straight through Stiles as if he wasn't there. Obviously, she couldn't be bothered by him.

"Yeah. Sorry, Cindy, if he bothered you."

She shrugged a little, waving her hand. "It's all good. Just showed up seconds before you did."

Derek nodded once before turning back to Stiles. A mix of emotions flickered through his eyes before he finally sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You can explain why you're here upstairs. It's freezing down here."

"Put your jacket back on." Stiles nodded his head towards the easily wearable jacket. Derek only shot him a glare that called Stiles an idiot with just his eyes. Stiles wasn't sure what he said, but he just shrugged. "Or not. That's cool. Upstairs is fine by me."

Glancing over Stiles once more, Derek shook his head, and moved towards the elevator. Stiles had to jog to keep up with the other's fast past. As he stepped in the open elevator after Derek, he noticed the lady behind the counter, Cindy, staring at them. He smiled and gave her a small wave. She just gave him an even more bewildered look.

_Guess Derek doesn't get many visitors..._ Stiles thought, licking his lips. _Really, _I _shouldn't even be here_.

Stiles looked up at Derek, expecting the other to say something, but the dark haired had his eyes fastened on the long row of buttons as if they were the most fascinating things ever. Stiles took that as his cue to not talk, however hard that was.

It wasn't until they reached Derek's apartment at the very end of the fifth floor that it all really registered in Stiles's mind. He was here. At Derek's apartment. Derek Hale, who many people suspected killed his sister. Derek Hale, someone Stiles barely knew. Yet Derek Hale, the only thing Stiles had been able to think about the previous day and all during school. Plus, it wasn't like he'd be able to do any chem homework if he didn't talk to Derek.

Walking in first and keeping the door open for Stiles, Derek raised his eyebrows, waving his arm into the room with an over dramatic flourish. Stiles hesitated before taking a few steps in, letting his eyes register the room he saw.

He had walked into a small hall that quickly erupted into a massive living room. To the direct left of him was an open door that led to a relatively large kitchen. Stiles could see a door in the kitchen that he assumed opened back into the living room. Walking in a little further so he was in the living room, he could see a door to his right. He assumed that led to the bedroom, as there were no other visible doors.

Whistling with faint sarcasm, Stiles turned to face Derek, who was hesitating on the outskirts of the living room, a few feet from Stiles.

"Impressive place you've got."

"Why are you here." Derek didn't waste any time to get to the point, it seemed. Stiles noted it wasn't so much a question as it was a statement, or better yet, a command.

Sighing, Stiles crossed his arms, nudging his chin into his red sweatshirt. Derek seemed to flinch, but Stiles passed it off as his own imagination.

"Um, about last night -"

"You were drunk. Don't worry about it."

"But -"

"But nothing. You stumbled out of the back entrance of the club. I didn't realize it was you until I got you out of the road."

Stiles raised an eyebrow. "So you _didn't_ save me because you knew it was me? Darn, I really was hoping you were my guardian angel after all."

Derek looked a little taken aback before the tiniest of smiles crossed along his lips at the memory. "You were insanely drunk. Which, by the way," the smile vanished as Derek pointed a stern finger at Stiles, "is _illegal_. You shouldn't be out drinking, you're in high-school."

"Didn't stop you from kissing me last night."

Freezing, Derek slowly turned to the coat hanger beside him, dropping his jacket on a wooden peg. Crossing his arms, he rolled his neck, cracking it. Stiles flinched at the echoed sound. The room really was massive, any noise bounced off the metal walls. You'd be able to hear a whispered conversation from the next room.

"I was... caught off guard."

"You get caught off guard for a few seconds, not a few _minutes_."

Derek's movements were slow and awkward as he leaned against the wall behind him, stood up straight again, then back against the wall as if he couldn't decide which he preferred. Refusing to look up at Stiles, he kept his eyes focused on the ground.

"It was still a surprise."

"An unpleasant surprise? Or did you like it?"

That got Derek's attention. Head snapping up, he stared Stiles straight in the eyes. Stiles blinked. He had never seen Derek's eyes glow that bright before, were they always so... so blue? Taking a step forward by instinct, Stiles quickly sucked in a deep breath and shook himself off a little.

"How am I supposed to answer that?" Derek's head was cocked ever so slightly, as if he were taking in what Stiles had just done. Stiles shrugged, letting his arms swing by his side.

"I dunno."

Silence settled between the two before Derek finally spoke again.

"So why are you here?"

"Are you going to interrupt me again?" Stiles raised both his eyebrows, refraining a smile when Derek grunted a little, but didn't protest. "Thank you. Well, I wanted to say, about last night, I'm... sorry."

Derek prodded Stiles a little with his eyes, frowning. "Is... is that it?"

Stiles shifted, grabbing his elbows. Of course that wasn't it. But how were you supposed to tell someone six years older than you that you may possibly have some sort of feelings for them? Not only was it illegal, but the someone six years older was also an accused murderer. Granted, there was no proof against him, but it didn't help Stiles's case.

Staring at his shoes, Stiles shook his head once. "No."

Derek sucked in a deep breath through clenched teeth before saying, "Stiles -"

"Don't worry about it. Sorry I bothered you, have a good evening. Catch ya round." Stiles walked towards the door, but Derek grabbed his elbow as he passed by the taller, stopping him. Stiles yanked back his arm, ready to leave again, but as soon as he looked up at Derek, he didn't want to. Stiles barely had time to notice the fact that Derek's eyes were no longer quite as blue before Derek leaned down, catching Stiles's lips.

Fingers threading through Derek's hair, Stiles turned his body so he was facing Derek properly. Derek grabbed Stiles's waist like the night before, clinging to the teen as if his life depended on it. Stiles struggled for dominance in the kiss, but let himself dissolve at the wonders Derek could do to him by just a flick of his tongue or a quick nip. Stiles was a putty in Derek's hands, molded to do whatever Derek wanted.

Letting his hands roam a little, Stiles untangled his hands from Derek's hair and lightly pressed against Derek's shoulders and down his back. Then, trailing from his back to his shoulders again, then down his arms, he nearly groaned into Derek's mouth at the feel of his muscles.

_If you're not gay, or bi or whatever, then stop. You have the power to do so. You can push him away and never look back, _Stiles thought. He realized quickly that there was no way in Hell he was going to stop.

Finally Derek pulled back a little, resting his head against Stiles's forehead, letting the two catch their breath.

"Still unpleasant?" Stiles couldn't help but pipe up after a few seconds. Derek, growling a little, grabbed the other's earlobe between his teeth and pulled down before sucking gently as if that was the appropriate response. He received a gasp then a mew Stiles never thought he'd once make in his life. "Okay, okay, definitely – Oh sweet Jesus... don't... _oh_."

Derek trailed his tongue down from his ear, across his jaw, and started sucking on the skin above his collar bone. Stiles felt his fingers dig into Derek's arms as he tossed his head back, giving Derek more space to work.

Pulling back again, even more out of breath, Derek smirked a little seeing the state Stiles had been pulled into. Stiles rolled his eyes, swatting a little at Derek's shoulder.

"This is still illegal."

"No it's not. We've only kissed. Stupid," Stiles huffed out a little, realizing he sounded like a five year old too late. Derek's smirk grew wider. "Welp, I have work I need to do. So."

Derek let Stiles step out of his arms, though the younger hesitated a moment, as if unsure of what to do. Licking his lips, a grin creeped along his face.

"What?" Derek frowned.

"Nothing. Just... nothing."

Eyes squinting, Derek didn't say anything as Stiles pecked him swiftly on the cheek before dashing out the front door.

Hurrying down the hall, Stiles couldn't stop shaking. Not from being scared, but from excitement, from the adrenaline rushing through his body. He bit his bottom lip, and refrained laughing as he entered the elevator.

_Bad idea my ass, this was a good, a_ great_ idea_, Stiles thought a little smugly. Granted, he still had no idea what was going on. He hadn't really solved anything... except he _may_ have just gotten himself a boyfriend... Shrugging it off, Stiles licked his lips, a small smile tugging across his face nonetheless. He couldn't even be bothered to think about the cons of this sparking relationship.

The elevator spoke the floors as they headed down to the first. However, the doors opened on the second. Someone was getting on.

Stepping to the left and out of the way of the opening door, Stiles was surprised as his substitute teacher, Ms. Clay, entered the elevator. She was staring at Stiles as if she expected he'd be there.

"Oh, uh, hi. Ms. Clay, right?"

She pressed something against her ear. Stiles realized she had a small mic clipped, like a bluetooth or something.

"Derek led us right to it, as I said. I _knew_ that he knew something and wasn't telling me."

Stiles's eyebrows crinkled. But before he could say anything, the doors of the elevator closed slowly, and Ms. Clay covered Stiles's mouth with a slightly damp rag. Stiles struggled for a moment before he felt his body grow heavy and his eyes start to slip shut. The last thing he heard was Ms. Clay speak into the phone again.

"Yeah, I'll talk to the bloody wolf. I'm on my way up to him now."


	6. Chapter Six

So I know the whole chloroform-soaked rag thing is like totally a cliche and only works in the movies (it doesn't knock people out immediately, it takes a while to set in, though it does in fact work if you keep breathing it in for a while) buuuuut we can just pretend that the previous chapter is totally realistic yup

And wow you guys I got a really positive amount of feedback last chapter, let's keep that up /shot Reviews make me work faster! Especially since I still don't have a beta (I am on the hunt, though...)

Bananaman : Eheh cliffhangers are the best though *evil laugh* But in all sincerity, thanks, your review made me smile eek And I was afraid it was like super obvious that Stiles was what the hunter / Stella / Ms. Clay / whatever was looking for but I wasn't sure and hhhh yeah sorry

* * *

**Six**

Derek laced his hands behind his head as he kicked off his shoes and padded into the kitchen. Taking a deep breath through his nose, he let it back out again, this time a little shakily. He wasn't sure what had come over him, and he wasn't sure what Stiles wanted him for, but he did know he enjoyed that kiss. A _lot_.

Dropping his hands, unable to wipe the smile on his face, he grabbed an apple from the counter and walked into the living room. Dropping heavily on the couch, he propped his feet up and stared at nothing in particular as he thought over the kiss again. That would be on his mind for days on end if he didn't see Stiles again. The kiss from the previous day had taken over first, but that was subsided from events not even ten minutes ago.

He was about halfway done with his apple when there was a knock on the door.

Frowning, Derek wondered if it was Stiles. But he knew the other truly did have homework to do. Then again, Derek never heard the sound of the jeep drive away... Glancing out the window, he saw it was still there, resting on the edge of the street.

Placing the half-consumed apple on the coffee table in front of the couch, he walked across the room, his bare feet completely silent against the hard wooden floors. When he reached the door, about to open it, he was caught off guard by a flurry of strange yet familiar smells through the door. It didn't take him long to realize he could smell Stiles, chloroform, and another familiar smell, though he wasn't sure what yet.

Bracing himself, Derek turned his face into his sleeve, stepping back as he opened the door. He was surprised by who stood there, though.

A woman, probably his age, stood with her hands on her hips, a wide smirk spread across her face. Her red hair was back in a loose braid. A pantssuit showed off her curves, and brought out the gold flecks in her green eyes. Derek frowned at her, wondering why she smelled familiar.

"Hello again, Derek."

Like a punch to the gut, Derek was reminded. She was the woman who attacked him that previous Saturday. Or, well, attack wasn't really the right word to use. It was more of a harmless interrogation. Maybe not actually that harmless. Though Derek had forgotten all about that. He had more... personal things on his mind.

"Why are you here? And shouldn't you be hiding your face again?" Derek snapped, taking a small step back into the apartment, getting a defensive stance if need be.

She tsked a little under her breath, and seemed almost... bored. "No need. I've caught what I needed."

"You've... what? Does that mean you can tell me what it was?"

"Like you don't know."

Derek blinked, genuinely confused now. He cocked his head a little, lips thinning out. The woman's eyes bulged a little in shock at Derek's confusion.

"You really don't know?"

"Know what?!"

Barking out a little laugh, she clutched her stomach, doubling over slightly as she her laughter grew harder. "Oh, this is rich."

"What's going on?" Derek realized how oblivious he sounded, but he didn't care. What he mostly wanted to know was why she smelled like Stiles. Then it hit him. As if a bad smell filled the air, his face scrunched up, his nose and forehead wrinkled. His hands curled into fists at his side as he glared at her. "Where's Stiles?"

"Caught on, have we?" She wiggled a finger at him, almost mockingly. She cleared her throat, finally getting over her laughter. Sighing, she shook her head a little, almost like she was... sympathising for Derek. It annoyed him. "I can't blame you. I don't think it even knows."

"Even knows _what_?"

She pursed her lips, looking at Derek through squinted eyes as if she were carefully thinking over her next words.

"I don't think I'm allowed to tell you."

"Allowed? You can tell me, it's not like I'm going to go running around screaming to the world."

"You really are something, huh?" She grinned up at him. "If I were deciding my own rules, I'd go ahead and tell you. Sadly, I'm not. But," Her grin disappeared, and her face went all serious again, "I do have a few questions I expect you to answer."

"And why is that?"

She examined her nails slowly as she spoke. "Because, I have your precious little abomination."

Derek's eyes widened. That's why she spelled of Stiles and chloroform. "What are you planning to do with him?"

"You get one question answered after you answer all of mine. Choose wisely, you could potentially save it."

Flinching, Derek closed his eyes for a few seconds before stepping back and letting her in. She smiled up at him as she merily walked in. Her heels clicked against the floors, echoing through the room, making Derek flinch. She dropped onto the couch, propping her feet up. Derek felt a strange sense of de ja vu, only this time he wasn't on the ground with his eyes closed.

She squinted at Derek as he stood across the coffee table from her, his arms crossed.

"What do you want to know?"

"How long have you known it?"

"First of all, this it you're calling him? Not gunna work. Stiles is a boy. A teenager. I would prefer you use the proper pronouns." Derek glared at her. "And secondly, since Halloween."

She raised her eyebrows as if telling him to go on, obviously ignoring his first part. Derek sighed.

"I was angry on the full moon, and the wolf took over for a little bit. I would say I lost control, but it wasn't that bad. I went into the forest and ran around a little bit, getting the adrenaline out of my system. But then... something happened and I don't know what. I got injured somehow. From myself, I assume. And when I came to my senses, I was laying in a bush with some kid staring at me."

The woman sat up a little, intruiged.

"You were injured? How?"

Derek shrugged. "I probably cut myself. It's not that unheard of. Being a little reckless as the wolf took over more and more, I probably tripped a few times in the woods."

"How bad were the cuts?"

"Relatively shallow, but all along my arms." Derek blinked, trying to catch up with where these questions were going. "Why does it matter?"

A mix of emotions was flickering through her eyes as she stared across at Derek. But instead of answering his question, she responded with another question of her own. "Has i- _he_ ever acted weird around you?"

"Define weird, because that kid is something alright."

"Weird as in the supernatural kinda weird. Suspicious, maybe? As if he had been lurking in the woods harming people?"

Derek shook his head. "I would have been able to smell it on him."

"But you've never dealt with something like him. You'd have no idea what you were smelling on him, and would confuse it as just his scent."

Opening his mouth as if to say that wasn't right, Derek realized he couldn't counter against that point. It was true, he had no idea why this woman wanted Stiles. How would he have been able to smell anything on Stiles?

"The answer is still no."

"Uh huh... and on the full moon, when you met Stiles, are you sure there was no one else with you that night? No one else that could have given you those cuts?"

"Are you suggesting that Stiles _attacked_ me? Because I can tell you right now, lady, there is no chance Stiles would have been able to take me on. Especially on a night like the full moon. Have you even met him?"

The woman shrugged a little. "I've been watching him all day. I took on a substitute job after a teacher got in a little... accident, you could say. I never expected to find it in that school, let alone in my class."

"So then you should realize he wouldn't be able to harm me."

She sighed and shook her head. "We don't think he attacked you. We think another of his _kind _attacked you. Someone who's been watching over him, waiting until the right moment to tell you. Sadly, they thought you were one of us, but it wasn't until it got it's daggers on you that -"

"Wait, daggers?"

"You get one question, Derek. Be patient."

Derek scowled but didn't object. There were too many things he wanted to ask to narrow it down to one. But he still had time to think, because she was still questioning him.

"Yes, daggers. We think that it suspected you as a threat, especially since you landed so close to Stiles's home. You were probably nearing where it was staking out, and it attacked in pure self defense. Or, Stiles defense. Then it realized you were nothing but a mangy werewolf, and left you there in the bushes. It probably vanished before you could remember."

It didn't make sense. Derek's head swam with confusion. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he breathed in deeply. It _was_ possible he had forgotten choice events during the full moon. Sometimes if the wolf took over too much, he lost control and didn't even realize he'd lost control. And he had thought it was weird he injured himself. That wasn't very like him. But to be attacked? That was a whole new level of weird he didn't want to embrace just yet.

"Okay. Fine. So maybe I was attacked. Do you have any more questions?"

She glared at Derek before standing up, shaking her head. "No."

"Then you have to answer my question."

"Fine." She snapped, seemingly irritated, though Derek couldn't tell why.

"What are you going to do with Stiles?"

Obviously surprised by his choice of question, she blinked, her face going blank. Then, slowly, she smiled, cat-like. "Nothing. As long as he doesn't do anything to us. We have a code, sort of like your little werewolf hunters. They won't attack you if you sit and stay and follow their command with your tails wagging. As long as Stiles doesn't do anything rash, we won't harm him."

"And if he did?"

"We'd have no choice but to defend ourselves." She shrugged, then started across the living room. Derek didn't even turn his head as she got to the door, calling out to him, "Call me Stella, by the way. I'll be talking to you again soon."

Derek closed his eyes, expecting her to leave with that, but he could practically feel her hesitation as she lingered a few more seconds just so she could say one last thing.

"Oh, and do yourself a favor. _Don't _come looking for Stiles. We don't want to have to hurt you, either."

...

When Stiles woke up, he thought for a second it was just a dream. A weird, really good but slightly bad, dream. Derek and him hadn't kissed again, his sub didn't knock him out by pressing some rag to his face. But the throbbing pain in his back from lying on a solid surface, ie the ground, and the unfamiliar room he was in sort of gave away the fact that it was no dream.

Sitting up, rubbing his head, Stiles glanced around the room. He had no idea where he was. The room was small, like the size of a typical bathroom, with just enough space for Stiles to have been laying on the cold tiles. It was completely empty with white walls except one. Along the entire expanse of that wall was a mirror. A mirror placed _in_ the wall. So, naturally, a double-sided one. He was being watched.

Taking a deep breath, Stiles scratched his arm a little absentmindedly, trying to think about what could be going on. After a solid minute, he couldn't think of any good answers.

Before he had to worry, though, the wall to his left slid open. He wouldn't have known it was a door if it hadn't just done that.

Ms. Clay walked in, one hand on her hip, the other sliding the door shut behind her. It clicked once it met the other wall, as if a massive lock was sliding back into place. Stiles could only stare in a mix of confusion and fascination.

"Hello, Stiles." She smiled, crossing her arms and leaned against the wall.

Keeping his mouth tightly shut, Stiles glared up at her. He slowly stood up, his feet wobbling for a second as if he had been knocked out for a long time. To be fair, he had no idea _how_ long he had been out. He had assumed only a couple of hours, but his stomach felt empty and his back ached as if he had been lying on the hard floor for a very long time. Stiles was happy to see he was taller than the woman, though he had no doubt she was stronger. Maybe he still had a slight chance against her. But even if he were to get past her, who knew how many others there were, just waiting.

Licking his lips, Stiles nodded once.

"I don't have much time, now, got to get back to class. So we're going to cut straight to the chase. I'd appreciate it if you answered my questions quickly. Alright?" She waited patiently for a few seconds before huffing out a little laugh. "Fine, be quiet. Still going to ask you questions. Do you understand why you're here?"

Stiles didn't break her eye contact for a second, however brutally sharp the blue gaze was. Her smile was strained, fake. It gave her a mildly frightening expression.

He shook is head a few times, quickly.

"Of course not. To be honest I didn't think you would, especially after realizing Derek doesn't even know."

Flinching at the sound of Derek's name, Stiles wanted to look away, but found he couldn't. Ms. Clay's grin widened at the sign of hesitation in Stiles. He straightened his back and took a deep breath, recollecting himself.

"I bet you don't even know about Derek, do you?" She slowly took a step forward before trailing a sharply pointed nail across Stiles's jawline as she walked around him, as if trying to get a look at him from all angles. "What a pity. Tell me, Stiles, do you believe in things that go bump in the night?"

Stiles didn't want to talk, afraid that his voice would be shaky and break his somewhat calm facade. "Excuse me?" He almost jumped, surprised by how low and settled his voice sounded. Ms. Clay certainly seemed surprised by it.

"You know. Werewolves, zombies, vampires, monsters. Beings abused for legends and fairytales." Ms. Clay's eyes flashed, directly behind Stiles. She trailed the line at the nape of his neck where his hair dissolved into skin. The hair stood up at the touch.

"Wow you watched movies when you were a kid too," Stiles muttered.

"What about immortality? Eternal youth?" Ms. Clay finally landed back in front of Stiles again. She cupped Stiles's face, smiling up at him. Stiles wondered if she was trying to seduce him in some sort of way. He didn't know why, but her intimate touches... it freaked him out, which was probably the goal. She definitely knew what she was doing.

"I mean I guess. Immortality, it just means you can't die." Stiles turned his head slightly away from Ms. Clay, finally feeling uncomfortale. He let his eyes shut as he took a steadying breath. "Am I right?"

Pursing her lips, she dropped her hand and stepped away again. When Stiles looked back up, her lips were thinned out. Stiles assumed that meant he was right, though he couldn't tell why that was a bad thing.

"Why does any of this matter?" Stiles asked, beyond confused.

"Eternal youth," She spoke, ignoring Stiles's question bluntly. "The dream, is it not? You get to watch the world evolve around you as you don't." A faint smile creeped on her lips again, just barely a tug on the edge of her mouth.

Stiles gulped around a lump that had formed in his throat. What on earth was she _getting_ at here? "I still don't understand what this has to do with me."

Leaning agaisnt the wall, Ms. Clay just stared at Stiles with an air of nonchalance, her face blank as she looked Stiles up and down.

"Your mother died when you were young, did she not?" Again, ignoring Stiles's question. He would have been upset if it weren't for the shock that crossed him like a punch to the gut. Stiles stepped back. Eyebrows furrowing deep above his eyes, his hands tightened into fists.

"Yes," He struggled to say, his voice tight and forced.

"Do you know anything about your mother's side of the family, Stiles? Do you ever visit her parents? Maybe spend some time with cousins, or any other relative?"

Stiles shook his head. "They lost contact with us after her death."

"And why is that? Did they blame you for it?" Ms. Clay knew her answer after Stiles's eyes clouded and he looked down. "Stiles, what if I told you they didn't blame you for her death, but are jealous, of you?"

Head snapping up, Stiles stared at Ms. Clay with wide eyes.

"Excuse me?"

"They don't talk to you because you inherited... a certain trait passed through your mom's side of the family. Oh, they had hoped desperately that your mom would inherit it. Especially after learning she had cancer. Of course there's no way to test it out without risking something a little too much. But they _know_ you have it."

Stiles blinked at her, surprised. "Right. And you're tracking down people with the same trait as me."

Ms. Clay just stared at him. Stiles felt a shiver run through him as he stared back in disbelief.

"Fine. Then the least you can do is tell me about this... trait."

"Most would consider immortality as a blessing. You get to live forever, do anything and everything you want. A thousand and more opportunities. But what if it were a curse? What if you were immortal, and not forever young? Aging until you were a rotten sack of bones, yet still alive."

Stiles blinked up at her. "Are... are you suggesting that I'm immortal? But I age?"

Shrugging, the older looked at Stiles with a blank expression. "It's been passed down your family for as long as we can track. It skips, and it's nearly impossible to tell who has it. I doubt your mother ever told you about the time you crawled out the house. Less than a year old. You wandered into a street, and got hit by a car. Your mom never told your dad, either, especially after you just kept crawling like nothing happened."

"How do you know all of this?"

"It's my job."

"Well, I'm not going to believe this. It's _insane_. You can't expect me to bel-" Stiles started, but was cut off. Ms. Clay, in the blink of an eye, unwielded a small blade in her hand. Then, flinging it across the space at Stiles, She watched it sink into his throat with a crooked smile.

Stiles groped at it, nonsense sounds coming out of his mouth before he began to gurgle on blood. He felt it fill his throat, felt his heart begin to slow. Everything was fuzzy around him as he collapsed to the ground, staring up at her. His hands went still. He felt his eyes close.

But then, like a miracle, he could practically feel his skin start to close around the dagger. He could feel strength boost through him like a surge of power he didn't know he had. He grabbed the dagger, yanked it out, and let it drop to the floor with a loud _clang! _He gasped for breath as he got on his knees, hands pressing against his completely seeled throat. Though the taste of blood was still very clear in his throat, he knew he was okay. Alive.

Staring up at her, Stiles felt his body shake beneath him. She just simply shrugged at the boy. Grabbing the dagger, she turned, about to leave. She hesitated before taking a deep breath.

"There's more to it than just being immortal. We'll talk more when you've come to your senses. We're not the bad guys, Stiles, please keep that in mind."

Stiles watched her disappear through the wall. When the door closed, the lights flicked off, leaving him alone, crumpled on the floor. Confusion didn't begin to describe what he was feeling.


End file.
